


(Don't) Meet Your Heroes

by Razail



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 20:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20052250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Razail/pseuds/Razail
Summary: Ever since Camelot you felt as if Sherlock was the most suspicious person in the room, motives unknown, speaking heresy of a beloved friend only made it worse. Summoning the man only made things worse for your already complicated feelings towards him.





	(Don't) Meet Your Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> A story of how I summoned Sherlock in six tickets. He oozes suspicion to me tbh. Not sure if I grasped his character that well as I still feel like on NA his personality hasn't been fully exposed yet but I tried.

Your excitement on first meeting the famous detective was crushed in an instant when they warned you of Roman’s possible malicious behavior. Not to mention how arrogant he seemed to be, as if he was gracing you with his presence since he calculated the time you were going to be there at the same time so he might as well throw you a bone sorta deal. You didn’t mind arrogance, but doubting Roman put him on the ‘look here you might be a heroic spirit but I will find a way to kick your ass for accusing my friend’ list. You respected him sure but he felt like he was only like the cover from the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle books. The one from the inside pages seemed more… vibrant? Or perhaps a tiny bit on the eccentric side? This one seemed more… well not like the Sherlock from the books. Like the joy was sucked out of him, or perhaps it was ‘Watson’s fanciful writings’ that made him seem a bit more cheerful. It was frustrating, if not down right infuriating, not being able to pin down what felt off about him. The Chaldea staff just said it was because he might be an amalgamation of ALL the Sherlock Holmes to exist. Clearly whatever took the mass of variations and put them to a saint graph left out the mouse and RDJ films.

Regardless he flitted in and out of Chaldea on a whim, made himself a nice little room that even looked a bit like the 221B suite. It felt homely to someone who read the novels as much as you did. Often you’d find Mash there when Sherlock was on the premise, uninhibited by having to restrain herself due to a singularity. He treated her amicably enough, regaling tales untold by Watson, humoring the young knight for fetching him coffee or food. You enjoyed them as well, you had to admit. And yet you still found it hard unlearning what your expectations were from the books. 

When Da Vinci calculated that there was a new ruler added to the summoning pool, you figured it was him, you haven’t met any new rulers in a long time and after you eliminate the impossible and all that. You took the only stack of tickets you had and headed to the summoning circle room. Graphs of memories came easily enough and you were only on your sixth ticket when a card you’ve never seen revealed itself before you. In a flash the man in question appeared before you announcing himself. It still honestly shocked you, the man had almost no intention of helping before so why would he want to now? Although he has been hanging around a considerable amount more than usual, you supposed he had a significant change in mind. You breathed out a calming breath, and thought to yourself that at least he’s here to stay and actually help. You’ll never turn down someone who is actually willing to join the cause.

“Well, now you can make yourself even more at home here. A pleasure to be able to continue working with you Mr. Holmes.” Giving the man a curt nod you headed towards the door and opened it for the man to go through. “But if you’d excuse me there are other matters I need to attend to as well, mat collection and all.” Special classes were a special kind of hell in terms of the sheer number of materials they needed. Luckily his arrival coincided with a leeway in the system that halved the action points needed to fight in the simulator. If you were lucky you could get his skills and levels up in a week.

“Of course, but before you go Master, there is something we need to address concerning the very summon simulator you were going to go into.”

* * *

At the very least you cleared the anomaly. But still yet again Sherlock withheld information from you and Mash. Stating that it’d just be easier if you operated under the assumption that it was still a mystery. Not to mention talking circles around the whole fact or fiction bit, which you do understand how it could be a touchy subject, especially for a man like Holmes who likes dealing in absolutes. Still practically everything he did irritated you. From withholding information to making jokes about it when it’s been exposed all the way to the smug aura he seems to exude. Not to mention the first incident. But upon catching yourself doing the exact opposite of what you wanted to do, you took a deep breath and forcibly relaxed your jaw and tried focusing on the positives.

“May I come in? There is something I wish to discuss with you about today’s mission, among other things.” Before you could even think of the positives the devil himself came knocking. 

“Yeah, go ahead it’s open.” 

The man entered the room and was a comfortable distance away before he started talking. "It has been brought to my attention that my behavior has been clashing, I suppose, with how you run things."

"It's nothing I'm not used to."

“And yet you hold animosity towards me,” You turned your head towards him, the face you were making most definitely didn’t help diffuse the words. “It’s clear to see. Respect and admiration, sure. Your posture when it’s just us is usually one akin to how a good student would look and act in the presence of a teacher. Open to what is going to be said and yet waiting for the other shoe to drop to be able to refute what was said.” The detective stepped closer, height holding a clear advantage over you now. "You don't trust me, do you?"

"I don't trust people who speak in half truths."

"And yet you trust Moriarty."

"That's different." Your response was immediate and passionate. "You can always trust an evil man to do evil things. But half truths from someone who wears the face of a good man… That's dangerous."

"And what makes an honest man then pray tell?" The tension before the next words were palpable. "Was Roman one of those?"

Fire coursed through your veins. Your hands itched to grab the collar of his shirt even if you don't really know what you'd do after that. Honestly you consider yourself a nonviolent person but bringing up Roman in such a way really pushed the mark. Now seething with anger you awaited his next words.

“Disappointment and anger. There’s always a small crinkle of your brow when I’m near, it’s almost imperceptible, perhaps you even get a minute headache after you leave my presence because of the unknown muscle tension. Eyes holding defiance, vulnerability… grief. It’s because of what I said about Roman back in Camelot, isn't it?” The question was merely a formality, you knew. His eyes pierced into your own as the heart of the problem was exposed. Sherlock knew from the beginning about the complicated feelings you held towards him. You knew that and yet having him expose it all was as freeing as it was damning. The man gave you room to breathe and walked to one of your shelves that held baubles and knick knacks from your travels.

“I did say I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. I was hoping you would get him to confess what he was hiding. But now I understand that his plan was inevitable.” He continued glossing over your silence by picking up a roll of brocade, examining the fabric closely before putting it back and continuing. “The way things ended was regrettable." A pause of for having the wisdom to hold his tongue before continuing. "It’s obvious he was a dear to you, and I apologize for casting shade upon his legacy.”

"I'm still mad you know." Your voice came out watery, and you began to hate how your anger always turned to tears. He spared you no glance eyes transfixed to the shelves, a small mercy, to help your diminishing worthless pride.

The detective’s small chuckle had you glaring at him, pride more than injured now. Yet you saw a distant look in his eyes as he held a small chain of coins. “Oh, I know.” You clicked your tongue at him. “No, no not laughing at you. It’s just that you sounded an awful lot like him just now.”

Your emotions long exhausted, and long over being grilled yourself, you saw a thin crack in the mask he always shows. Something that truly reminded you of the great detective you loved in the novels, something that made you feel as if you just might understand why Doctor John Watson was so enamoured with the man. “Do you miss him?”

“Constantly.” Your heart broke for the man, knowing all too well the feeling of missing someone that was constantly near. Knowledge of the adaptations coming into play that the great detective might be lonely, not that he’d admit it. Remembering him mentioning liking having someone to monologue to, maybe just maybe he did enjoy the company you and Mash gave him.

A tired sigh left you as you confronted Holmes. “Just promise me, Holmes, that you’ll try, to give me information that I need to know for missions. I know information can be dangerous. But if there’s anything I hate, it’s being played for a fool. I would have helped regardless of you knowing what that beast in the simulator was. It’s hard to trust someone when they don’t trust you enough for even the smallest of details.” Gathering thoughts you continued. “I understand not being trusted at first. You earn trust over time I know. But you have to start somewhere. We have to start somewhere. Especially since we started on rough footing to say the least.”

“And… just one more thing.” You almost couldn’t bear to look at him but it needed to be said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pretended everything was fine when clearly it wasn’t. I’m embarrassed as both master of Chaldea and now your master, that I let my emotions get the better of me. I should’ve been the one to confront you rather than this roundabout way of solving things. I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I shall endeavour to do so and look forward to both our progress on bettering ourselves.” Sherlock straightened as he turned to face you again. “Now that's squared away, shall we get back to the simulator?” With a nod you gestured to the door, knowing with a man as straightforward as him the matter was thankfully over. Pausing only when the man stood back facing you. 

“On second thought you’ll stay here. You’re far too low level to even be back up. The mana cost to include you and all the CE farming requires will go over what I can spare.”

“That’s fair. I’ll provide support from the command room then. Till next time then, Master.”

* * *

About a week later you show up at his door and as usual the door's unlocked so you let yourself in. Knowing the probability of him lying on the couch in deep concentration, you made your way over and without looking plopped the heavy box you were carrying onto him. The man's eyes went wide with surprise as he opened his eyes and looked over at your now smug smirk as you mentally high fived Moriarty. 

"And what's this?"

"You know what it is."

"For the sake of conversation I tried. But yes it seems these are the materials I need for my skills to be enhanced." Sherlock sat up and moved the box off himself as he sat upright. "Quite a large amount of them as well."

"It's not out of being sorry if that's what your thinking." Your gaze sharpened as you met his eyes. "It's a thank you. For being serious about helping us this time." Breaking his gaze you made your way over to the end table and poured two cups of tea. Handing one to him while keeping your own securely in hand. "I hope I'm not wrong in maybe seeing that your wish to help is genuine, even if it lies alongside whatever motives you have. But regardless of any of those words those mats are yours." 

"Thank you." A small simple reply but that's all you really needed to begin with. Lifting the tea cup slightly towards him you began again.

"To my first and hopefully, only ruler," Continuing with a sharp smirk, and mischievous eyes "Cause one's pain enough."

A smile graced his features. “Cheers.” You both basked in the moment until your cup was almost fully drained and started to make your leave, a new event just started and it needed to be cleared after all. “Would you like another cup, Master? I’ve just thought of something and could use an ear to listen.”

“I-I mean sure?”

“Well it started when-” He opened his eyes and glanced at your still standing form. “Go on sit. It might take awhile.”

Taking his advice he began again.

* * *

The small problem was solved quickly, you honestly think that he made up a small problem to have a proper conversation and to be able to branch off to chatting about his own adventures. You never thought you could relax in his company but here you were who knows how many hours and cups later. "No! You did not do that! Watson did not do that! You're exaggerating!"

"I swear to you!" His laugh echoed your own.

"You're ruining my childhood!"

"Well they do say to never meet your heroes. But I'm sure it's far too late for you to do that." An exasperated sigh left you as you began recounting your own tales of meeting people you looked up to turning out to be completely different than the stories they hailed from.

* * *

Sherlock found himself relaxed by the end of it. He couldn't remember a time since he came into this existence that he's done so. Perhaps it's because you remind him of Watson, heart to his own mind. Righting his emotions and keeping his humanity in check as much as it's possible for a man like him. He'll keep his word as much as he can but knowledge is dangerous and being a ruler gave perspective on the consequences of knowing. But that's a problem for the near future. For now the detective gently tugged the darts from the grip of your hand as you slept. Pulling the blanket off the back of the seat he laid it over you. Now, it's time to get back to work.


End file.
